Now if there's a smile upon my face…

‘Slim Jim’ Baxter

The reasons for that are many but in simple terms it was because my father worshipped him and this suggested that I ought to too. Another reason was simply because Jim was absolutely brilliant.

There, now I’ve got that out of the way I’ll begin. Much of Jim Baxter’s story as a player with Glasgow Rangers, Sunderland, Nottingham Forest and Scotland is fabled stuff. As always I won’t head in the direction of a detailed resume of his life or career as that has been covered by many. I’ll alternatively offer an individual take on a man who entranced the world of football during the 1960s. One who passed through that decade’s football folklore like a shooting star. A very brilliant star at that. As a young man growing up in Hill O’ Beith he was a Hibernian fan, admiring the stellar forward play of the Hibees’ Famous Five.

And what football! On a ‘research study’ at my favourite watering hole The Woodlark at Lambley, (tours available), I ‘nebbed in’ as they say in these parts, on a conversation between some worthies sitting in the bar who were talking of some sterling names from the local football fraternity. Totally ignoring my partner of course, I listened in with glee as the names of Jim Baxter and Joe Baker dutifully came to bear upon proceedings. That Nottingham Forest in particular have much indebtedness to players from north of Hadrian’s Wall is not lost on most knowledgeable Forest fanatics to their great credit. The talk was of ‘Slim Jim’ and his magic left foot which he self-christened ‘The Glove’. Interestingly Iit seemed lost on these local men after the decades had passed on how Jim struggled in the Garibaldi Red of their beloved team, (mainly due to the wonderful social life James Curran Baxter had sought out in the Lace city). Another Baxter story was of him addressing the apprentice boys in the Nottingham Forest dressing room, requesting them to ‘fetch my magic wands’ – to bring his boots to him!

Jim was known to be fond of the odd Bacardi and Coke and found a terrific ally in Garfield Sobers, the greatest cricket player that ever lived and also a world class drinker. Together as the famed ‘Drunk n’ Sobers’, they toured the fleshpots of Nottingham in spirit-infused abandon and no little debauchery. Famously after one nightclub scrape, former former Black Watch recruit James had to be picked up out of the gutter by the genial Forest coach, Irishman, Tommy Cavanagh in the early hours. On this occasion Jim had taken on one too many doormen and come off worst, so bad in fact that his teammates were not allowed to see the state of him for the next two weeks as he was ordered to train on his own.

In those days the local Nottingham Evening Post would often report that Jim was ‘two or three moves ahead of his teammates’ in thinking. Forest had a team on the wane when Jim arrived and his football brain, though let down by his physical condition, was still razor sharp. He didn’t flourish in Nottingham but rather showed odd flashes of his genius which some still talk about.

Jim Baxter was like no other football player I’ve seen. He seemed to almost glide across the pitch and was always in the right place at the right time. That left foot was a stunning yet delicate tool. Its brush strokes creating small masterpieces whenever he was on the ball. Jim would read the game very well and ‘see’ a pass where others wouldn’t and slide it through with precision weight and accuracy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a player with a finer touch, one so deft.

Of course orchestrating two Scotland victories over England at Wembley in 1963 and 1967 (and humiliating them in the process in the latter game) elevated Jim’s standing in our house to astronomic status. He made our dreams into a reality. He was the elegant rapier that cut and tore England to pieces with his cavalier midfield play, prompting prodding and waltzing around the England rearguard in elegant style. Punishing them into submission. How could we not love him?

Jim will always be immortalised for that heroic display in 1967. The other thing he will always be known for is for kicking his career away at a very early age. His drinking was almost as accomplished as his football, the former finally overruled the latter as he attempted one last hurrah at Rangers after Forest freed him.

Jim was very frustrating in some ways. You just wanted him to play football forever but that was never his style. It was sad to see his self-imposed health and weight problems as he got older. It was also easy to forgive him too. he never showed any regret for his lifestyle and we should remember he left his elegant footprint on football more than most. He will always be remembered.

Thanks for the memories Jimmy Baxter – you were simply sublime.

A Working Class Hero? Is Jim Baxter To Me! (Kevin Raymond)

“Go on grand-dad tell us,
Tell of us of the day?
When Scotland with Jim Baxter at his best
Beat the England team away”

“Well if memory serves me right
My bonnie wee lad, the story go’s like this
Scotland made the trip to Wemberly in ’67’
To play the champs of ’66′”

“Were England unbeatable grand-dad”?
“Unbeatable? Tis hard to say
But Scotland led by Baxter
Sure made them pay that day

“What did England do grand-dad,
Did they try to stop him playing”?
“Aye my bonnie wee lad, they did try that
But Baxter? He out played them

Grown men were seen to cry the tears
For a nation once more proud
As Baxter and his Scottish peers
Brought cheers that echoed loud

Jim Baxter sat upon the ball
In the middle of the park
Then he’d start the England nightmare off again
With a taunt, a feign, a pass

They tried hard to get the ball off him
My, how those English boys did try
But Baxter tantalized and sucked them in
Then nonchalantly knocked it wide

That game you boys play in the street
Keepie uppie… is it called?
Jim Baxter played that in front of ninety thousand fans,
Right along the Wemberly touchline
The England team were overawed

A young man in his prime he was
Possessed with ball at feet
When England saw him gliding o’er the green
Yon blonde cap’n called “retreat”

Baxter walked about the pitch
A God amongst mere men
He’d beat one man, then turn around
Then beat that man again”

“The scoreline! Tell us granddad
How did it end up”?
“Son, the result? It did nae mean a thing
When you drank the heavenly elixir
From Jim Baxter’s dark blue cup

When this game is often talked about
You’ll hear praise as old one’s sing it
What a match! A terrific victory
But how the hell did Scotland win it?
The other twenty one? Are sadly part of history son
T’was Jim Baxter in a dark blue shirt….. finest ninety minutes”!

I remember Slim Jim from Roker Park in the mid 1960’s. Together with former Hibees Centre Forward, Neil Martin, they were 2 of the leading lights of Sunderland’s scots imports. Baxter is still spoken about today in the red and white part of the North East. Quite simply he was the best player I have ever seen. I cried the day he was transferred to Forest and shortly after Baxter and martin’s departures well Sunderland were relegated.

Comment by Neill Thompson |
October 19, 2009

Thanks for your memories Neill. it seems Jim left a similar legacy wherever he went. Just a breathtaking talent. Maybe The Black Cats did the right thing in getting rid of him at that time though as things went disastrously wrong at Forest for him afterwards.

Being a Hibs fan I remember Neil Martin well too. Of course he played here at Forest also when he was getting a bit older. A ‘proper’ centre forward – you’ll not find many Hibbies with anything bad to say about Neil Martin either.

Good luck to Sunderland for the coming season. Always a team I like to see do well. Some of the best fans too.

Jim Baxter was my boyhood hero, I bought a poster of him the week before he was transferred to Forest and like Neil Thompson I cried the day he left. Never missed a penalty for us and was an absolute joy to watch. We always said “when Baxter plays well, Sunderland play well”. Absolute GENIUS.

i remember when i was a young boy watching jim playing for rangers and scotland , he was my boyhood hero. so when he left sunderland and came to nottingham forest my local team i was elated. what a loss football when he retired at 31, R.I.P JIM.

Comment by JOHN |
November 22, 2013

He was some player, John. It’s a pity he wasn’t at his best at the City Ground. Still some glimpses of his awesome talent though.

Slim Jim was one of a kind. I used to watch him playing for Rangers and Scotland in the sixties. I moved to U.S.A.from Scotland in 1965 and subsequently coached youngsters for 12 years. One of my team asked me once who my favourite player was. I had never been asked that before, but when pondering my answer, I realized there was only one obvious response.

One while at university, I had a summer job working on a farm near Dunfermline. I went to a dance one night, and here was Slim Jim, looking very dapper in a mustard coloured Italian siut, with girls mobbing him.

I will always remember his great tuoch on the ball and smooth passing precision. I fondly recall the time he robbed Johnny Haynes from behind in a game against England, even though, as John Grieg joked about his defense,”He couldn’t tackle a fish supper!”

Comment by Alan Macqueen |
July 6, 2014

Great stories! Thanks very much, Alan. Jim was certainly a one-off wasn’t he. I can understand entirely why he would be anybody’s favourite player, such panache and style. The way that Job stroked the ball around was just inimitable. ‘Flair’ is a much overused word these days in relation to football but Jim encompassed it. What a player!

The Tracks of My Tears

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